


hand grips hand

by allourheroes



Series: toe to toe [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Sequel, Sexual Content, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3600852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So it happens again. And maybe they want it to keep happening. Maybe there's something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hand grips hand

**Author's Note:**

> This morning, an anon asked me for more and although I don't think this is exactly what they wanted, but, uh. It's something. (It's been far too long since I wrote these idiots.)
> 
> Title from "Breezeblocks" by alt-J (∆). Again.

It happens again and Bucky is weirdly quiet beforehand, as if remembering all those little confessions from that first time.

He lets Sam be tender with him though, lets Sam kiss him softly, trailing lips over jaw and throat and chest.

“Is that all you got?” Bucky says, pressing his back to Sam’s chest, pressing Sam deeper into him. There’s laughter in his voice that Sam doesn’t miss.  


Sam’s grip on Bucky’s hip is firm but careful; he fucks into him like he’s been made to and like he can’t help it. “As if you could handle more,” he says, and they both know what Bucky’s been made to do, that he _has_ , but the way Sam says it brooks no argument. It’s teasing, but it makes Bucky swallow, makes his eyes almost water.

Makes him fuck back against Sam a bit too hard, only to have Sam steady him, mouthing his shoulder over flesh and metal in reassurance.

“Hey, hey,” Sam murmurs, too close to speak clearly. “I got you.” He pauses, waits for Bucky’s body to stop trembling, strokes Bucky’s side with soothing fingertips. As a reprieve, he doesn’t fuck him achingly slow like he wants to, speeds up enough that Bucky is fighting to meet him as the swell of pleasure disengages him from thoughts of the past.  


Sam’s hand finds Bucky’s cock and strokes him in pace with his thrusts, determined in his coordination until Bucky shoves his face into the pillow and lets out this beautiful, inhuman, broken noise and his entire body goes tense. He spills over Sam’s fist, onto his own stomach, onto the bed. It’s a mess, but Sam is trying to make this good in any way he knows how, even if his body is screaming at him to finish, his balls tight and his cock throbbing—telling him he needs to fuck harder, faster.

He slows instead, lets Bucky breathe. It takes every ounce of willpower he has, but Bucky deserves it.

Bucky, however, is _good_. “Keep fucking me,” he says, makes sure he’s heard. “Wanna feel you come, Sam. Fuck.” He lifts his hips, ass moving onto Sam’s cock.

Sam pulls back for a second to assess Bucky, but words are rather beyond him. His gaze drifts to the joining of their bodies and he watches his cock disappearing into Bucky in awe before he’s looping an arm under Bucky’s and holding the other man’s chest. It doesn’t take much—close, _so close_ —and he fucks Bucky into the mattress, really, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, gasping “yes” and “finally” as Sam fills him up.

Sam keeps holding him close until Bucky starts to shift.

“Sorry,” he says, almost an afterthought. He slips himself free and the noise makes him flinch, a laugh bubbling in its wake.  


Bucky is silent and Sam is uncertain if something has happened, nuzzles his back ever-so-softly in the hopes of pulling Bucky from wherever his thoughts may have traveled. “Was it—” He stops himself. “This was good.”

Finally, Bucky nods, shifts and squirms until he can turn himself to face Sam. “I…” he starts, but Sam can see the uncertainty cloud his features.  


Although he’s starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, Sam doesn’t move. “If you ever wanna talk,” he says, “about _anything_ …”

Bucky shakes his head, lips twisting into a self-deprecating kind of smirk, his eyes closed, but he opens them again when Sam kisses him, chasing the feeling instinctively.

“C’mon,” Sam murmurs and Bucky’s expression softens into something unreadable.  


“It’s stupid,” Bucky tells him, and his voice is almost too loud given the setting.  


“You once asked me if—”  


“I know, I know!” Bucky interrupts, and his human hand moves to push his hair back from his face. He’s broken out into a wide smile and Sam can’t help reciprocating. “I just.” He stares at Sam, mouth open. “I.” He swallows, expression shifting again.  


“I like you, too,” Sam says, guessing and hoping that he won’t have to play it off like a joke. It’s strange to be so uncertain when they’re so wrapped around each other, literally covered in each other’s bodily fluids.  


Bucky’s smile is soft and genuine. “How could you not?” he asks, but Sam knows it’s a natural defense mechanism. His throat works and his voice comes out small and unsure this time. He’s been so careful not to say it. “Even knowing…all that?”

It’s not just the Winter Soldier’s kill count. It’s the other stuff. It’s the things Bucky has done and have been done to him that he’s still never said out loud, even if his actions have given Sam enough of an idea that he wants to find every HYDRA creep still out there and give them a slow, painful death. The kind of thing that has him wishing guys like Pierce were still alive so that he could kill them.

Sam wants to protect Bucky from all that, from the _world_ , but he can’t.

Instead, he presses his forehead to Bucky’s. “Yeah,” he whispers. Then, “Stay.”

Bucky huffs a little breath of relief.


End file.
